


Flammes Sombres

by Mother_North



Series: Of Gravity & Opposition [4]
Category: Figure Skating RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Explicit Language, Jealousy, Lust, M/M, POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Psychology, Rough Sex, Smut, Strangulation, Table Sex, dealing with FEELINGS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 02:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12854541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_North/pseuds/Mother_North
Summary: A post “Skate America” sequel to “Nemesis” in which Nathan comes to terms with his complicated feelings for Yuzuru. Now that the choices have been made and the die has been cast it is time to deal with the consequences…In full.





	1. Of choices being made...

**Author's Note:**

> A twisted muse of mine won’t agree to leave your humble author alone till this work is not written.The title of the work is taken from one of my favourite musical pieces by the great Russian composer A. Scriabin and it can be translated as “Dark Flames”.  
> RPF usual disclaimer applies to this work fully and it is not meant to offend anyone, being written for entertainment purposes only. I hope you’ll enjoy this work of fiction, although it tends to turn pretty angsty at times. Note that the Explicit rating applies to the next chapter.

_Just an eighteen years old naive fuck-toy._

The thought that is as clear and brutal as a ray of blinding sunlight on a hangover morning. The hangover after my severe intoxication _with you_ and it looks like it doesn’t want to end, no matter what. This Skate America weekend has been extremely busy and exhausting, diminishing my supplies of mental and physical energy considerably, leaving practically no time for such kind of thoughts _. Practically_ being the keyword in this case. I have won, yes, though the disastrous free skate is hardly giving me any true satisfaction with the victory. It was a ridiculous parade of mistakes and I felt kind of embarrassed to have won in such a way but still a win is a win, they say. They wanted me to step onto the top step of the podium at all costs, nurturing the whole nation’s dream of long anticipated Olympic Gold even further. The expectations of the country making the cheap plastic medal I’ve received weigh far more around my neck than it should have been. I wanted to win too, with all my heart and to the bones marrow and I proved it with my short program —season’s best being the result of my dedicated efforts and a solid illustration of my true purposes. And then, this horrendous performance in the free skate took place… _They say when you desire something too much it always turns out in the worst way possible._ I was so eager I crashed and burned but I managed to survive and become a victor and that’s what truly counts at the end. I was grateful for Adam’s supporting shoulder and Rafael Vladimirovich encouraging words, making the bitter aftertaste of my apparent triumph dissipate itself slowly. My previous GP event was so much more satisfying in so _many aspects_.

As we were driven to the hotel, after the final Gala Exhibition, Adam sitting next to me in the back row of the bus seats, my thoughts returned to _you_ once again. I was robbed of a possibility of seeing you by my beloved quad Lutz so unexpectedly and cruelly. I had found out about your injury in the news on Twitter on a dull, grey morning and as I was watching the footage of your unfortunate fall again and again, I couldn’t help but wince and feel frustrated and irritated at your own recklessness. It was a beast of a jump trying to tame after the onslaught of a high fever and the way your body betrayed you, not being able to prepare itself for the impact of a harsh landing or failing to feel that the axis was too off for even attempting to save the doomed jump disheartened me greatly. It looked painful and I bet it really felt too. A surge of unruly thoughts of whether or not I should try calling you with some comforting words attacked me. I understood perfectly that the chance of our GPF encounter had gone down the drain dramatically. It hurt, no doubt. After ridiculous amount of meaningless hesitations I’ve decided that I’ll post some supporting words in my Twitter, wishing you a speedy recovery. Besides, I sent you a sms-message saying that I was very upset with such tragic turn of events but adding that I was positively sure that it would only make you stronger than before, ultimately. The words were formal but I meant each one of them. You didn’t reply, not that I was anticipating that you would, to tell the truth. I also noticed the absence of similar phrases of compassion from Javier anywhere in the social media and it could only signify that he had the opportunity to exercise his condolences in a more private and, perhaps, _intimate_ way. A sting of jealousy prodded my core tangibly.  

_Just an eighteen years old naive fuck-toy._

I wasn’t able to suppress a heavy sigh of suffering and I felt Adam’s keen eyes turning to me momentarily.

“Hey, bro, you don’t look happy enough for a victor! What’s wrong, Nate, c’mon, tell, your elder and wiser confidant!” He elbowed me good-naturedly and I had no other choice than to force a smile on my sullen face.

“It’s nothing special, just a nervous tiredness getting its toll on me. A post-competition emptiness syndrome, when you feel burnt out from exhaustion after all of the turbulent emotions and stuff. You are familiar with it yourself, aren’t you, pal? ”

“Well, of course, I am, but it doesn’t look to me like it’s _the sole_ reason, you know. So, tell me, what is really bothering my little, impossibly cute Nathan. ”

Adam grabbed my hand in an exaggeratedly worried manner and stared at me with an absolutely disarming puppy eyes, waiting for my confession eagerly. My second smile was far more sincere than the one preceding it only a minute ago.

“Well, ok, but there is one condition — _no names_.”

“Wow! It sounds very intriguing already…Bring it on!”

I knew Adam pretty well, us training on the same ice for quite some time under a masterful tutelage of Rafael Vladimirovich. He was an easy-going guy with a good sense of humor and had a charming personality capable of sympathy, besides, he was older and had far more experience in the affairs of the heart apparently. Not that I could trust him with the disclosure of my whole situation with you, but to a certain degree, I guess — I could and I wanted to share it desperately, to alleviate my gnawing sense of rejection and insecurity.

“To cut it short, I think I’ve fallen deep for someone who is not meant for me at all. It was supposed to be just a fling, right from the very start, a mutually pleasurable pastime to unwind some of the pent up adrenaline and want, nothing serious, you know. And it turned out to be a one-night stand gone terribly wrong, at least, on my part it obviously had. I can’t stop thinking about him and it’s so complicated, it’s just…It just _sucks big time_ , Adam. ”

“ _Him_? Phew! Welcome to _the club_ , man! Well, seriously, first of all, sleeping with someone with the idea that it’s plain sex and nothing more is pretty dangerous because it can really become something _way more_ in the blink of an eye and you wouldn’t even notice it. And then, why in hell, have you decided that this mysterious _him_ is not meant for you…It’s not for you alone to judge. I bet that your shy, quiet self hasn’t even discussed it with the subject of your unexpected feelings, Nathan!”

I felt Rafael Vladimirovich inquiring gaze scanning our faces from his seat behind the driver, his attention seemingly being drawn by our animated conversation.

“Gosh, Adam, be quiet, please. There is nothing much to discuss, really, I know the answer already. Yes, the sex was absolutely mind-blowing, the best I’ve ever had — no denying the fact, but I can’t hope for anything more because it looks like he has already been involved with someone else for quite some time. That’s the problem, Adam. The main problem is _me_ , stubbornly refusing to embrace the reality of my role as a mere _fuck-toy_ to use when he pleases.”

I didn’t mean my voice to sound so bitter, hating its pathetic and whining undertone, yet it was the way I felt. Adam was looking at me solemnly without a trace of pity on his face and I was heartily grateful for it.

“I only hope that _the experience_ is worth the scars it has left in its wake. Feelings are not to be fooled with carelessly. I can say that everything passes with time, Nathan, and there is no wound which can’t be cured with its healing touch. Now listen, you‘ve got two options, Nate. The first one is _to erase and forget_ and the second one is _to try and struggle_ for changing the situation in your favor, in spite of the rival. It depends on your own feelings and their intensity so you better start sorting them out as quickly as possible, cause I have no intention seeing your constantly blue mug all of the time…Besides, I have to tell you, secretly, that your beauteous curly forelock increases your chances for winning him over in no time!”

Adam winked at me playfully and I rolled my eyes, yet I knew full well that, with the exception of the silly “hair thing” part, he was mostly right.

**

Getting to the hotel and closing the door behind, I placed my laptop on the bed and grabbed my acoustic guitar. Traveling with the musical instrument felt absolutely right and I afforded this little whim to myself. Not that I was great at playing it but plucking its strings was a great way to relax from time to time and it helped to pour out any emotions I had piled up inside. Feeling nauseous from all of the hesitation and incertitude I looked at my wrist watch and decided that it was not too late in Toronto to skype you. Perhaps, it would be totally unexpected, for I had never done it before but… _fuck it_. Shoving all of my self-doubts deep down, I pressed the call button and inhaled convulsively, the guitar still being at my lap. The chances that you would answer were very slim, yet to my complete surprise, you accepted the incoming call practically at once and I was greeted by the sight of your almost naked form lying on the bed in the low lights of the nightstand lamp. My eyes went wide as I watched you hopping off the bed nonchalantly and disappearing from my vision for the shortest moment of time only to reappear with a pink lollipop in your small hand. You were wearing only a pair of black thong and a charming smile and you looked seemingly amused at the mixed-up expression on my flushed face. Your laptop was positioned next to your side on the bed and it made me wonder briefly of how well-rehearsed it truly had been, for the angle of the camera was perfectly calculated and it was displaying your body lying on the bed in the best way possible. You were shamelessly beguiling and provocative and you were enjoying it immensely.

“Hello, Nathan. What a pleasant surprise! You play a guitar?”

I gulped involuntarily, my eyes devouring your pale, exposed skin openly as I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit in, for I felt all of my blood heading south immediately as I was watching you licking the blasted sweet in a deliberately vulgar manner.

“Yes, I do.”

With your impossibly dark eyes half-closed and wet lips tinted with pink, you asked seductively:

“Will you play something for me? Please?”

Tilting your head innocently and looking at me with a plea in your eyes, dammit, I could never deny you.

“Ok.”

My fingers weren’t obeying me fully and the simple melody I was trying to play was ten times worser than it meant to be but, God knows, I tried. You closed your eyes and took the lollipop into your mouth, sucking at it softly, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding world and my burning gaze. You liked having me at the palm of your little hand, toying with my raw emotions the way you wanted to, didn’t you? Your enjoyment of my crude music making was so obviously feigned that I felt a sudden wave of cold rage rising somewhere from within. I stopped playing abruptly, with a loud dissonant chord, and my intense stare was boring into you through the computer monitor. You startled from your orchestrated reverie with a sudden jolt and looked at me childishly amazed.

“I don’t feel like _playing_ anymore.” My voice sounded rather harshly in the quietness of the room, yet you only smiled contentedly as if wanting me to snap in such a way in the first place.

“I see. Too bad then, Nathan…I thought you liked playing too.”

“Maybe we should just talk at first. Like two, normal grown-ups for instance. What do you think about it, _Yuzu_?”

I saw you wincing visibly at me using your diminutive name.

“Simple talk is boring.”  You sighed, looking condescending as if you were talking to a foolishly stubborn child.

“Oh, yes. I’ve noticed that you don’t like wasting time on talking. It’s really interesting though what Javier thinks of such a peculiar approach to _certain things_. Or, maybe, he knows and is in there, somewhere in your room, listening and waiting patiently for our improvised Skype call to end to fuck you senseless?”

I spat out the words seeping with poison spitefully. I saw the way your smile faded from your face slowly and I felt the thrum of my irritation flaring uncontrollably along with it. It looked like you clearly didn’t want to bring up the Spaniard and the subject of your relationships with him in our current conversation.

“These certain things are between us. _You and me only_.” You stressed the last words specifically, the heavy tension in your tone palpable. I was amused at how your delicate fingers were now toying with the damned lollipop nervously, all of the frivolous seduction forgotten.

“Oh, so it seems that Jav _i_ _is_ oblivious and doesn’t know that our precious _Yuzu_ likes to play on the side from time to time. How unbelievably cute!”

Your stare had turned on the infamous killer mode and its coldness reached me even through the liquid-crystal monitor and virtual space. I only huffed, at least, it was sincere, for a change.

“What do you want from me, Nathan?”  

Now, that’s better — sorting everything out in a blatant and upright way. I asked the next question, even though I dreaded the answer.

“What do you _feel_ for me?”

“ _Nothing_ ”, the answer being as fast and merciless as a bullet, aimed straight at my wildly beating heart. Not a moment of hesitation on your part before the lethal shot. It stung, it hurt and it made me feel at a loss for words.

“You want me — fine, I don’t mind sleeping with you, but that’s all, I want us to be…to be simple. Yes. Keep things the way they are. Simple and _secret_.”

It was brutally honest, even though I knew that you were undoubtedly struggling with English to convey your thoughts in a proper way, I still got your message quite clearly. I couldn’t bring myself to speak and just nodded silently, averting my eyes, not able to look at you at the moment, for it felt too painful.

I heard you continue speaking evenly:

“You are good, Nathan. You are _very good_ and just me not ready…Not ready for _more_. You can think and tell me later. You know my number and you can call if you want, but no one can know. Nobody _.”_

I sighed, feeling defeated and drained, a resonant, strange void spreading inside of me, making me shiver perceptibly.

“Ok.” The word has left my lips almost inaudibly.

“Goodnight, Nathan”, a faint glimpse of a sweet smile ghosting over your delicate features and my lower lip bitten forcefully, the taste of copper filling my mouth with its distinct bitterness.

I was staring blankly at the monitor for a while after you had ended the video call. I was trying to glue my shattered self together again, thoughts running astray in my pounding head:

_You are not good enough…you are very good, Nathan…not ready for more…I don’t mind sleeping with you, little fuck-toy… you can call if you want to…simple and secret… secret and simple… you and me only…only you and me…_

I wasn’t able to close my eyes on that night, lying in the darkness, feeling crushed and tortured by the helpless longing and humiliating desire eating me alive. You were strong-willed and overpowering, enchanting and cruel and oh so _very_ _tempting_ and I still wanted you unfathomably, despising myself for it. 

Adam’s earlier words have flashed vividly in my mind: erase and forget or try and struggle. There was only one possible option and it looked mighty obvious to me — I _couldn’t_ erase, I _wasn’t_ able to forget, I _wanted_ to try and I _would_ struggle.

On the following morning I called Rafael Vladimirovich, asking him for a two-day vacation and, after noticing soundly to “just not fuck it all up, boy”, he agreed grudgingly. I called Nam Nguyen then and asked boldly for your address, saying that I wanted to pay you a friendly visit as I happened to be in Toronto for the next couple of days. He provided me with it, eventually, after me overcoming some of his initial reluctance and it gave me a boost of extra confidence. All pieces of a puzzle were now at my hands, each one simply waiting to be put into its corresponding place. There is no turning back.

Finally, a choice had been made and I felt weirdly calm and relieved as I was booking an afternoon flight to Canada with a gloomy smile twisting my thin lips darkly.

**


	2. …and of their consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan pays Yuzuru a visit at his home in Toronto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An epigraph word to this chapter is taken from A.Scriabin notes to his musical piece “Flammes Sombres”, in which he uses this very descriptive French word (eng. “disorderly”, “messy”) to define the way the fast part of the said piece of music should be played. “…Dark, dark, glowing embers, fueled by a dance into a firestorm, turning into ritualistic frenzy in a flash…”. I love this atmospheric and wild piano piece and it echoes “Le sacre du printemps” by Stravinsky in some ways which also happens to be a musical accompaniment to this season Nathan’s Free Skate. Overall, I just think it fits nicely as a tiny preamble to this particular chapter because it resonates with its mood and emotions of the characters perfectly. This chapter was written entirely to Scriabin’s late piano sonatas and it was an interesting and a rewarding experience. I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy the final result.

_Désordonné_

**POV Nathan**

The flight to Toronto didn’t take long and in a couple of hours I found myself standing in front of your house door. The location was not difficult to find at all as the taxi driver knew the district you were living in well enough. The residential complex was situated in a green zone with a massive park nearby, the air being fresh and woody. The building had large windows and it was a two-storeyed contemporary looking architectural ensemble. I definitely liked the place you chose as your Canada-based home and having climbed several final steps of the concrete porch I pushed the doorbell button confidently.

The door opened pretty quickly and a very attractive, youthful looking, middle-aged woman with long, dark hair stared at me noticeably surprised. I immediately identified her as your mother and it struck me just how absentminded I had to be to forget entirely that you were living with your mother. I smiled, nevertheless, and introduced myself civilly, asking if you were at home.

“Hello! My name is Yumi and you can call me Yumi-san, if you’d like to. I know who you are and it’s a pleasure meeting you in person,” her polite smile was charming and I noticed, to my relief, that she was a far more advanced English speaker than you were.

“Yes, Yuzuru is at home, would you, please, come in! I’ll go and call him. Whiles, you can make yourself comfortable in the kitchen area. We are about to have a dinner and I would like you to join us in our modest meal!”

“Oh, thank you very much! I’ll accept your kind invitation gladly, if you don’t mind! I don’t want to bother you in any way! I just want to see Yuzuru and to find out how his rehabilitation process is going as I happen to be in Toronto with a two-day visit.”

Yumi-san smiled at me warmly, seemingly touched by my concern for her precious son. Bowing slightly with gratitude, I stepped into a spacious, modernly-styled apartment in light tones. As Yumi-san went upstairs, to the second-level of the dwelling, where your room was situated apparently, I walked into an airy kitchen with a big dining table made of transparent glass in the middle. It was sterilely clean everywhere, all of the surfaces shining with tidiness, a lovely scarlet _Camellia Japonica_ decorating the marmoreal whiteness of the kitchen area. Your mother possessed a great sense of an interior style, I had to admit — even ornaments on the tiled floor were matched with the curtain ones in a subtle way.

I heard your voice from above speaking something aggressively in machine-gun Japanese, though I couldn’t make out a single word, I picked your irritated tone unmistakably. Well, it looked like my little surprise had been successful indeed.

The next moment you stepped into the kitchen, looking pale and not even bothering to fake a greeting smile — your lips a tight line on your inscrutable face. You were dressed in all black: comfy track pants with a v-neck “EA7” t-shirt, clinging to your lithe and slender form tightly. My eyes lingered at your long and graceful neck involuntarily for some fleeting seconds.

“Hello, Yuzu! I just thought I would come and say “hi”! How is your ankle? I hope it is better now,” I beamed a sunny smile as I was looking at you clenching your jaw with a badly concealed exasperation. You didn’t like when something went not according to your plan; everything had to be calculated: all moves and their outcomes known in advance. No space for abruptness in your meticulously structured world of an obsessive perfectionist.

“What an unexpected visit, Nathan! My ankle is ok for you to know.” Finally, I saw you smiling, though it was tensed and visibly forced, your eyes studying my face, trying to decipher the true reason behind my visit. Perhaps, you were afraid that I would tell your mother something akin “your son and I are fucking and now I’ve decided that the time to receive your motherly blessing has come”. Ridiculous, at best.  

Yumi-san wasn’t wasting time and started serving dinner which smelled absolutely delicious. It was a traditional Japanese meal and after asking whether I would like to try her specialty — _Oyakodon_ _,_ she invited us to the table, doing her best to dispel the heavy tension between us.

You remarked something in Japanese to Yumi-san and she asked you to speak English so that I could understand everything. You were nibbling the food without appetite, staring at your plate silently. I, on the contrary, was eating with gusto, your mother’s cooking skills were outstanding and I didn’t forget to compliment them patently. Your mother’s face lit up with moving satisfaction.

“Why don’t you tell me, Nathan, when you and Yuzuru have become friends? I thought he was that friendly only with Javier…” Your shoulders strained perceptibly and ignoring your pointed stare I answered nonchalantly:

“Well, Yumi-san, we got to know each other at the Four Continents Championships earlier this year and then at Rostelecom Cup in Moscow we had some great time together— laughing and goofing around and stuff like that, you know. Your son is very nice to be around. I like him _very much_ ,” I felt your foot kicking my shin unceremoniously beneath the table. At least, your left foot seemed mighty fine.

“Oh, I am so glad to hear it. Yuzuru has very few friends and all of them are in Japan. Sometimes I feel that he is lacking communication… ” You rolled your eyes as your slender fingers were toying with wooden chopsticks crossly.

After we had finished our little “family” dinner with some pomegranate juice, you stood up from the table and after thanking your mother properly, said:

“I’ll clean the dishes and then I am afraid Nathan has to go, so we’ll go out and have a short walk in the park and…”

“No, no, Yuzuru... It looks like it’s going to rain and I do not want your foot to be overstrained with walking. I’ll better leave you two alone, boys. I was going to do some shopping anyway! So, there is no problem at all.” Yumi smiled looking at our faces alternately and after fluffing your hair in a typically motherly, tender fashion, she left to get changed.

Your blazing eyes were seemingly trying to turn me into ashes but to no avail, as I was smiling at you innocently.

“What the fuck are you doing here? How dare you coming without…Without asking _me_ first. You leave now! You hear me?!” You were hissing words irritatingly and I grabbed your frail wrist forcefully, making you look me in the eyes.

“Or else…? What will you do? Call your mom? I need _something_ and only yesterday you were very eager to give it to me…Have you already forgotten, hmm? Are you wearing that black thong today too, c’mon tell me, Yuzu?” My hands travelled to your firm ass boldly, kneading the appetizing flesh through the thin fabric of your track pants.

“Are you crazy, idiot? Let me go now!” the commanding tone of your hushed voice didn’t affect me even in the tiniest but the way you were trying to squirm out of my embrace certainly did. Today I won’t let you play your favorite twisted games with me and you won’t get away, without taking everything I have in store for you. I was starting to get aroused rapidly.

My hands left you only when I heard your mother descending steps as she was walking to the front door to leave. You held your breath and your pale cheeks were turning pink cutely.

“I am leaving you alone! You behave yourselves, boys! Yuzuru, please be hospitable to our guest!” The clicking sound of a door lock increased my excitement tenfold in no time.

You tried to fly out of the kitchen but I was faster — encircling my hands securely around your midriff and whispering hoarsely into your ear from behind:

“You must be a good boy and listen to your mother! Show me how well you were taught to treat your guests... ”

“Fuck you!” Quite tangible stroke of your elbow had made me loose balance momentarily but, not giving you any further advantage, I trapped you in a vicious grip: one of my arms around your neck, the other going straight to your groin to rub you through the black fabric of your pants, my hips grinding against your shapely ass from behind. I heard you moan faintly, still trying to get out of my captivity, creating an intoxicating friction, the closeness of our bodies driving me mad. I felt you getting hard swiftly, as my hand found its way beneath the waistband of your underwear to stroke you proficiently.

“Please, don’t…Stop, please…” I ignored your breathless pleas. The whiny, needy tone of your voice didn’t contradict with the way your body was reacting to my persistent caresses; there was no way you didn’t want it just as badly as I did.

My tongue was plunging into your ear to the rhythm of my demanding hand around your hard cock and very soon you were all _too ready_ to cooperate, wiggling your hips impatiently against the bulge in my jeans.

“Now, that’s better, Yuzu…That’s better…” I wanted you so madly it hurt.

Forcing you to bend over the transparent glassy surface of the table, I yanked your pants down harshly, noticing that you were wearing a pair of black thong in fact.

“Do you wear them on a daily basis, Yuzuru? Not that I complain, though… “, I toyed for some time with a strip of black fabric which was disappearing seductively between your perfect asscheeks.

“Not here! Not on the dining table…” Your nails were scratching over the smooth, cold table surface but you didn’t make any true attempt to move away. The idea of taking you right here, on this kitchen table, made my cock throb inside my impossibly constricting jeans.

I didn’t know how much time we had before your mother’s return but I had no intention of hurting you, thus as my eyes spotted a bottle of olive oil next to the cooking stove, I sighed with relief. Heavy anticipation was making my hands shake as I took hold of it swiftly.

You looked at me over your shoulder and wrinkled your nose in disgust.

“Eww…It will be a _mess_. In my room there is a…Argh!” Pulling the black thong stripe to the side, I penetrated you with two of my oiled fingers simultaneously, starting to thrust them in quickly, without any retention. I desperately wanted to be inside of you as soon as possible and the foreplay had to be cut short, for I simply couldn’t take it. Your sensual loud moans made my head spin with lust as my heart was beating erratically in my chest. I was acutely aware that we could be caught at any moment and some strangely twisted part of me wanted us to be caught in the act by your mother, while the other dreaded the sound of the key turning in the door lock terribly. A surge of adrenaline made my blood run faster in my veins and I felt beads of perspiration sliding down my back and temples.

Pulling the unzipped jeans down my shivering thighs, I took out my painfully erect cock and entered you impatiently in one deep, hard thrust, burying myself in you to the hilt. You cried out and thrashed violently against the table but my strong hands took hold of your hips and made them stay in place, not allowing any movement on your part. I couldn’t fight my intense urgency and without letting you adjust properly, I established a punishing rhythm right from the very start. As if from afar, I heard a distant sound of something shattering against the tiled kitchen floor. It seems you have knocked down some of the glass from the dining table. I didn’t give a damn. Your body was quivering so delightfully around me as one of my hands caught your thin wrists behind your back in a vice-like grip while the other was pressing the back of your head into the smooth surface of the table. Your hipbones were bumping into the solid edge of the table with the force of my thrusts and I bet you’d get bruises blooming all over your tender skin by the following morning.

The savage, animalistic way of our coupling made me growl lustily. I couldn’t get enough of your body and the realization of you letting me claim you in such a feral and forceful way was toying with my sanity, all of the restraining barriers falling under the wave of all encompassing, primordial sexual instinct. Your constant tortured, half-strangled groans were inflating the raging flame inside of me to dangerous heights. A wild thought had come to me and I asked lowly without any semblance of proper consideration:

“Has _he_ fucked you here? On this blasted table? Answer me.”

Your tiny, breathless “no” didn’t satisfy me as I closed my eyes tightly thinking that, maybe, you were imagining _him_ doing _this_ to you _right_ _now_. The poisonous sting of jealousy made the world around me turn a furious shade of red. I needed to see your face and, what was even more crucial, I wanted _you_ to see _mine_.

I turned you over, so that your back was now lying flat against the glassy surface. Having made you spread your bent-at-knees legs, I entered you roughly again. Your flustered cheeks were moist from tears and your hard-bitten lips were trembling visibly, as you were gasping for air desperately. My hands gripped your slender neck, feeling your pulse point beneath my squeezing fingers. You looked absolutely enraptured while being ravished thoroughly, your inner muscles clenching around me mind-blowingly hard, simultaneously to my tightening hands around your throat.

“I want you to look me in the eyes when you come”, my voice sounded practically unrecognizable due to the overwhelming sensations in which I was drowning because of you. With your heels digging into the small of my back and your impossibly dark eyes tearful and hazy, I heard you speaking something incoherent chokingly before your body arched off the table, shuddering pleasurably. Your unfocused burning gaze never leaving mine as you reached your ultimate delight: your mouth opened in a silent scream, small convulsions wrecking your body as you peaked powerfully, coming all over your toned stomach and I swear I saw countless galactic spirals swirling in the bottomless depths of your dilated pupils.

After several vigorous thrusts I released your neck and pulled out. Not being able to last a moment longer, I spurted across your still constricting abs, mixing our pearly essences together on your satin-like, niveous skin. We were both panting hard, trying to grasp the surrounding reality and to return to this plane of existence gradually.

I looked around dizzily, my legs giving out after the intensity of my orgasm. It was a _total mess_ : pieces of broken glass scattered around the floor, a bottle of oil lying overturned next to a greasy puddle near the kitchen sink. The air of the room was filled heavily with a peculiar, musky scent of heated sex.

Your eyes were closed and you didn’t move, splayed out on the table without a hint of embarrassment, prints of my fingertips manifesting themselves on the sweaty skin of your beautiful neck. Heading to the sink, carefully avoiding the broken glass, I took some paper towels to cleanse and you were whimpering quietly under my ministrations. I took your languid body into my arms, finding your lips with mine for the first time on that day. I poured all of the tenderness into our kiss — a gentle, wet slide of my tongue being the comfort you needed.

You opened your eyes, finally, saying:

“She is going to kill me.”                                   

We both chuckled weakly. With my fingers tracing your chiseled jawline gingerly, I asked:

“ _Do I have a chance_?”

The barely perceptible nod of your head had made my heart flutter. I tightened my embrace around your willowy frame and whispered into your wet hair:

“I think you need to get changed and I need to try making your kitchen look presentable again. It’s not going to be easy. I hope your mom won’t return for an hour or two, at least.”

Your arms were gripping my shoulders as you buried your face in the crook of my neck.

“I think I can’t move…”

Having picked you up, I took you to your room, two flights of stairs seeming like the mountain Everest climb to me. Placing you on the bed carefully, I felt your fingers entwining themselves with mine constrainedly:

“You must beat Shoma in the final. Promise me. And Kolyada with Voronov too. And Rippon with Boyang, of course…I’ll be watching on TV.”

It made me laugh heartily.

“Well, it seems like you have left me no choice, Your Highness.” I bowed to you in an exaggeratedly reverent manner.

“As you are perfectly aware of, I am always at your command and ready to serve, Your princely Majesty.”

You pouted and took my smiling face between your delicate hands while looking me straight in the eyes with intent.

“ _I am not joking_. Remember, you’ve made a promise and…And you can stay for the night if you have nowhere to go. But for this _one_ night only!”

I kissed you passionately, finding your usual dictating self to be absolutely irresistible, an unmistakably warm feeling drowning me from within.

**

As Yumi-san had entered the apartment cautiously, several hours later, a sight of a perfectly clean kitchen greeted her along with Nathan in an apron fussing in front of a heated stove and Yuzuru chewing down some of the freshly-cooked crispy toasts with appetite. She noticed the way her son’s cheeks were weirdly flushed and that he was wearing a black turtleneck, all of a sudden, but the blissful gleam of his eyes had made all of her worries disappear without a trace.

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading.


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